


I Can't Be You

by AudreyRose



Series: It's Not a Nightmare When You've Lived It [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyRose/pseuds/AudreyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason watched Dick as he lay there, unconscious to the world around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Be You

Jason watched Dick as he lay there, unconscious to the world around him. His throat was tight with an emotion he refused to acknowledge, why was he taking care of him? Why had he brought him back to his apartment, fixed him up and put him in his own bed? A quiet voice nagged at him that he still cared, that the other man was still his _family_ , that what happened wasn't his fault. Jaw tense, he let his eyes lid, hanging his head as he let out a quiet sigh. He _knew_ his death hadn't been Dick's fault, or even Bruce's when it all came down to it, it had been his own foolishness. His own hardheadedness that he'd been chewed out over so many times.

He heard the quiet pained noise that came from the direction of his bed and he glanced up, seeing the bandaged vigilante struggling to sit up. He let out a quiet growl and saw blue eyes widen before narrowing, his shoulders tensing as he waited for Jason to make a move. The younger of the two shook his head, relaxing back against the chair, a crooked smirk on his lips. "I'm not going to take you out while you're half dead, Dickie-bird, that's cheating," he saw the way he relaxed slightly, his eyes lidding for a moment. He knew he was cataloging his injuries.

"You could have left me to bleed out," his voice is quiet, and it holds none of the usual cockiness that he normally has. Jason's green eyes watch him curiously, not sure of the next thing to do or say, which is also something new for the younger of the two former Robin's. "Jason, why didn't you?" Dick asks instead, asking the question he himself had been asking. "You could have let me die and you didn't, why?"

"I already told you, I'm the only one allowed to kill you," he murmurs his eyes looking anywhere but at the blue eyes watching him. He feels exposed, Dick was the only one who ever got under his skin like this, made him want to be better than he was. He was the only one who he'd felt understood him when he'd been younger. But he'd known he would never measure up to the original Robin, not in Bruce's eyes at least. He knows that's where his anger had been born from, the need to see Dick in pain.

"That's not why you didn't leave me," the voice is closer than it had been before and he looks up, seeing Dick standing before him. "Why are you so angry Jason?" he kneels before him and he sees the wince of pain. "Talk to me, like you used to," and Jason's jaw tensed at those words. He remembers them as boys, taking comfort in the form of hugs and quiet whispers of reassurance. 

_Two boys curled together in the darkness, huddled beneath blankets as the younger boy whispered his secrets and fears to the older boy. Quiet whispers of 'it's okay Jay-bird' and careful fingers combing through his hair and rubbing circles on his back. How he'd start awake from nightmares sneak down to Dick's room, crawling beneath the sheets while still shaking from too vivid images._

And talk he did, keeping his eyes shut while he let go. He told him about how he just wanted to hurt someone, how he'd wanted to make him bleed, see him in pain. He'd told him how he'd never been good enough in Bruce's eyes, that he was nothing but a fuck up, that he never should have been Robin. He tells him about his death and how scared he'd been, how he'd accepted that Bruce wouldn't be there in time to save him. How much it hurt that his last conversation with Bruce had been nothing but raised voices. Dick had remained silent, listening to every word he had to say, how he'd even been disappointed in himself. How it had felt to die.

He kept his eyes shut the whole time, he didn't want pity, or to see it on Dick's face. He kept his head bowed, feeling those eyes watching him with intensity. He remembered each blow of the crowbar, the pain that blossomed in his chest as bones cracked, the taste of his blood in his mouth. He didn't tell Dick that, he couldn't tell anyone, it was his own burden to carry. "Dick," his voice was rougher than he would have liked as familiar arms wrapped around him.

"Jaybird," Dick's voice was quiet as he whispered the old nickname into his hair. "I-" and Jason jerked away, eyes narrowed anger simmering in his eyes jaw tensed as he shook his head. "Jason?"

"Don't, I don't want pity, not from anyone, but especially not you," his voice was on the verge of cracking, but he couldn't stop or swallow. "Everyone told me how good you were, how amazing of a Robin you were and then there's little old fuck up Jason," he shook his head forcing his eyes shut. "I'm not like you, and I don't _want_ to be like you," he swallowed thickly, breathing out of his nose. "I'd die again before being like you, because there's no way I could keep it up Dick, I..." his voice faltered, the one thing he'd kept to himself was that old crush. He couldn't have Dick push him away when he was younger, wouldn't have been able to bear it, but now...

"Jas-" he was cut off by the fist in his shirt, pulling him close lips crashing together.

"I can't be you."

**Author's Note:**

> I /might/ make a third part, if I can sort it out? Thoughts?


End file.
